Max and the Mystery of Sleepy Peak Lodge
by Kamije Celeek
Summary: Max wasn't planning on going up to Canada for his winter break. He planned to stay in his dorm room and relax. However, when his oldest friend called him up and told him weird things had been happening at the lodge she owned, he couldn't say no to helping her out. Now he's going to have to figure out who's messing shit up... and why.
1. Welcome to Sleepy Peak Lodge

**I love mysteries. I love** _ **Camp Camp**_ **. Why wouldn't I make a story that combines the two?**

* * *

Max let out a sigh as the train pulled up to the Sleepy Peak station. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to spend his winter break investigating the lodge on the mountain instead of staying in the dorms and enjoying himself. But then again, he'd started looking into mysteries as a way to solve his boredom, so maybe this was the kind of break he needed. He stepped onto the platform and looked around for the groundskeeper that was supposed to pick him up.

 _Jesus fucking Christ, it's cold. Why the hell did I agree to this?_

His eyes landed on an old man with long gray hair, a mustache, and a hook for a hand.

"You the Acharya kid?" he grunted, approaching Max.

"Yeah. And you are?"

"Quartermaster."

"Uh, that's not a name."

"It's mine. My job is to git you up to the lodge, nothin' more. C'mon."

Max followed Quartermaster out to the parking lot, where a pickup truck fitted with snow tires was waiting. The old man unlocked the car and Max clambered into the passenger seat. The cold didn't bother him as much once Quartermaster cranked up the heat.

"According to RM, you're in college," the old man stated.

"RM?"

"Rosemary. Mr. Campbell's daughter."

"Oh, yeah."

And there was the _other_ reason he'd agreed to this. Rosemary was his oldest friend and the only person he found himself unable to say no to. Not romantically, mind you, but there was something about her that was magnetic and warm.

"She's the one who hired you, right?"

"Yep. I planned to stay at the dorms for the duration of the break, but then she called me last week, asking me to come up for break because weird shit's been happening."

"RM told me you're a detective and that you'll figure out what's goin' on."

"I wouldn't call myself a detective. I'm just really fucking observant and I pick up on shit. Product of a shitty upbringing."

"To be honest, I don't trust ya any farther than I can throw ya, but if RM says you're fine, I'm inclined to believe her."

Max looked out the window, leaning on his hand with a bored expression. He was ready to stop talking, because according to Quartermaster, it was a long drive to the lodge. He had no intention of talking to this guy for the entirety of the ride.

Instead, he focused on the scenery. It was a snowy forest, the kind that he remembered Rosemary always admiring when they'd played video games or watched movies during high school. Hell, they'd only played _Until Dawn_ so she could look at the snowy forest as the teenagers in the game were murdered. She'd always been a weird person, but he didn't mind, just like she'd never minded how fucked up he was.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the sun setting. It was pitch black now, the only light in the area coming from the headlights of the pickup truck. He looked around at the mountain road they were driving up. Finally, in the distance, he could see pricks of light, which Quartermaster turned towards.

"That's the lodge," Quartermaster grunted, gesturing to the building in the distance. "RM insists on running the lights when I'm out after dark so I can find my way. Completely ignores the fact that I've been workin' up here longer than she's been alive, but it's a sweet gesture."

The howl of a wolf cut the old man off. He slammed on the brakes, nearly sending Max flying into the dashboard. He looked around frantically, as if trying to find something.

An explosion rocked the truck.

" _Holy hell!_ " Quartermaster swore. "That was the bunkhouse!"

Max stared at the cloud of flame, smoke, and ash that was before them. Quartermaster hit the gas and sped towards the lodge, where Max could see Rosemary run out of the building. She was obviously in a rush, given her lack of a parka and the socks on her feet. The old man put the truck in park and she dashed over, panting.

"What was it?" she asked, fearful.

"The bunkhouse. We were only fifteen feet away." Max got out of the truck and Rosemary let out a strangled sob as she hugged him.

"Thank _God_ you guys are alright!" she breathed, releasing her grip. "Come on, Max. QM, call the sheriff."

"Yes, ma'am."

They headed inside and Rosemary leaned on the wall, burying her face in her forearms.

"Rose, what's going on?" Max asked. "You didn't explain much on the phone last week." Rosemary took a deep breath.

"Come on, Max. I'll explain when we have a chance to sit down."

She led him to a set of couches and they sat across from each other, Rosemary still shaking. Within a couple minutes, a woman with reddish-brown hair brought her a hot cocoa and Max a black coffee, giving Rosemary a look of worry.

"I'm fine, Gwen," Rosemary sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You and David can go to bed." The woman waved goodbye and walked off.

"So… what exactly is going on? I mean, the bunkhouse or whatever just got blown up." Rosemary bit her lip.

"It started a few months ago, around the time the deed to this place was put into my name. At first, it was little things—stuff that's normal for a hotel or resort like this, like socks going missing, items being misplaced… you know, stuff I wouldn't sweat over. Then it started escalating. One of our guests got locked in the sauna, the QM's snowmobile was stolen, and then two weeks ago, our cook and a family of guests got food poisoning from the potato salad. It got contaminated, even though I _know_ she just bought the ingredients that day. I had a receipt and everything. Until then, I was going to chalk it all up to bad luck, but between that and now _this_ … somebody's out to shut down the lodge."

"And you called me to figure it out."

"Yes. You're the only one I could think to call. The sheriff is no help, but we have to report this stuff to him. He's chalking it up to my father's history and not bothering to look into it."

"Damn. What the fuck kind of sheriff is he?"

"I don't know, but you're the best damn detective I know and I _know_ you can figure out who's doing this."

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you." She gave him a gentle smile. "Actually, I have an idea. It's a way for you to access the other guests' rooms and not come across as suspicious. You're going to be working as one of my employees—essentially a maid."

"The fuck are you saying?"

"I'm _saying_ that if you're working here and you're in one of their rooms, they won't object if you're cleaning. I can't pay you more than I already am, though…" Her face fell.

"Fine. Besides, it _is_ an excuse to investigate this shit."

"Thank you so much for helping me out. I have a free room you can use."

* * *

The next morning, Max woke up at seven-thirty AM. On his bedside table was a stapled packet of papers and a key with a note.

 _Hey, Max!_

 _I had to run to town to fill out a police report on the bunkhouse incident, but I left a list of essential knowledge to have about the lodge. Also, you're going to need a master key to get into everyone's rooms. We have a total of six guests at the moment. Their rooms are listed in the packet. If you need anything when I'm not around, ask Gwen, David, or QM._

 _I'm counting on you!_

 _Love, Rosemary._

Max chuckled at the note. He pocketed the master key and picked up the packet. It was basic hotel/resort shit—when to pick up laundry or how to tell if a guest requested their room cleaned—but there was also stuff like shoveling off a skating pond and reporting avalanches. The numbers for the sheriff, Avalanche Patrol, and the personal phones of David, Gwen, and Quartermaster were listed as well. He already had Rosemary's.

 _Well, time to start, I guess_.

Max got dressed and headed downstairs, where he could see the guests enjoying their breakfasts. He was going to head to the desk when he was stopped by a tall guy with red hair.

"Hiya!" the man greeted him, far too bright and cheery for the cold. "I'm David. You must be Max! Rosemary told us that you agreed to work here."

"Yeah," Max grumbled. "I need to get started on work, so—"

"Eat breakfast first! Gwen's the best cook the lodge has had in years, so you're missing out if you don't eat her cooking."

Max groaned and went into the dining room, where he discovered that there was more than enough food for him to have a hearty breakfast. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the train ride. Begrudgingly, he picked up a plate and filled it before sitting down.

"Hey, you're a late-riser, too?"

He looked up to see a woman with long, pale green hair tied in a ponytail. She also had a plate piled with food—more than him, he noticed.

"What do you mean, 'late-riser'?" he asked. She sat down across from him.

"Breakfast starts being served at seven, so everyone's usually up by then. Well, everyone except me. I sleep until seven-thirty."

"Same here, I guess. I usually sleep until ten back at college. Who are you?"

"I'm Nicolette Morrison, but everyone calls me Nikki."

"Well, I'm Maximillian Acharya, but everyone calls me Max if they know what's good for them. I'm the new housekeeper… person."

"Huh." She took a bite of her eggs.

"So, why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I like nature, and with school out for break, I wanted to head out here. I was supposed to come by myself, but my mom and stepdad insisted I bring my stepbrother. He's a nerd. You'll probably meet him later. His name's Neil."

"Good to know." Nikki scarfed down the rest of her food.

"Were you here for that explosion last night?" she asked. "I went out this morning—that's why I wasn't in line before you—and checked it out. There's just a bunch of burnt-up debris where the bunkhouse was. It's so cool!"

"I think you need to re-evaluate your definition of 'cool'. It was seriously dangerous."

"I know. But you know what _else_ is cool?"

"What?"

"That professional skier/snowboarder, Ered Miller! She's staying here to practice for a big competition."

"Any other guests you wanna tell me about?"

"Um…" She tapped her chin. "There's Harrison and Nerris—they're the couple in room 4. And there's also Preston Goodplay, in room 3. Neil's in room 2, I'm in room 1."

"And I'm guessing room 5 is Ered's?"

"I don't know. I guess."

"I'm in room 6. Thanks for the info, Nikki."

"You're welcome. See you later!"

Nikki left and Max breathed a sigh of relief as he finished his breakfast. He went on to do the rounds upstairs—taking care of laundry and cleaning the guests' rooms. Once he was done with that, he headed outside to investigate where the bunkhouse had once stood. He found a melted clock face among the ruins—probably used as a timer to set off the explosion.

Now it was time to question some suspects.

* * *

 **If you haven't picked up on it (I don't blame you; it's kind of obscure), this story is based on that of the game** _ **Nancy Drew and the White Wolf of Icicle Creek**_ **. I'm in the process of playing through the game at the moment and I have** _ **no clue**_ **who the culprit is.**

 **That being said, this story is going to have some major differences from the game, the most obvious of which being that there are a lot more characters. Also, the owner of the lodge is actually** _ **there**_ **in this story, rather than tied up with lawyers.**

 **If you can, I'd suggest playing the game. It's a lot of fun.**

 **So long and thanks for all the fish!**


	2. Meeting the Guests

**Questioning suspects is fun.**

 **Also, I didn't realize it until earlier today, but this is my 100** **th** **fanfiction published on this site! *blows noisemaker***

 **Since I've been on the site for five years, that means an average of 20 stories a year. However, most are unfinished and will most likely** _ **never**_ **be finished.**

 **I'm finishing this one, though!**

* * *

His first stop was the sitting room where he'd talked to Rosemary the night before. It seemed empty, until he turned and saw a man and a woman playing some kind of card game. He approached the table cautiously and got their attention immediately.

"Hello!" the man greeted him brightly, setting down his cards.

"Hey," Max replied. "Who are you?"

"Harrison Thomas. This is my fiancee, Nerris Buchanan." The girl waved.

"Max Acharya. It's a pleasure to meet both of you." He cleared his throat. "So, what brings you two here?"

"We wanted to get out of Vegas for a while," Nerris replied. "Also, we're celebrating our engagement away from our parents."

"Away from _yours_ ," Harrison corrected. "Mine don't know and don't care."

"Sucks," Max sighed, shaking his head.

"It does," Nerris agreed. "This place wasn't our first choice, but it beats the Nevada heat!"

"It wasn't?"

"We wanted to go to New York," Harrison explained. "Unfortunately, we couldn't afford it. Then we heard about this place from Rosemary, and we decided to give it a try."

"Well, Rosemary can be pretty persuasive. I've known her since I was a kid, and she's always been that way."

"We met her at summer camp and we've kept in touch over the years."

"It's _terrible_ for her that all this is happening," Nerris added. "She was so excited to be in charge of this place."

Max was suddenly reminded that Rosemary had an entire life he had no clue about.

"I still remember her as the girl who made me try out her monster makeup," he laughed. "That shit _hurt_ coming off."

"So, why are _you_ here, Max?" Harrison inquired.

"Rosemary needed some extra help, so she asked me to come up here until she can hire somebody."

"Ah. Makes sense."

"I'll let you two get back to your card game. Bye!"

Max headed out of the sitting room and noticed the display from the lobby. There were pictures and momentos—most of which featured Rosemary's father, Cameron Campbell. He'd been a hunter, according to the wall and the multitude of taxidermized animals on display. It was meant to show that this place had been, once upon a time, a hunting refuge. It was unnerving and he shuddered. Shaking it off, he decided to go down to the basement. There was a woman with blonde hair waxing her snowboard.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"S'up, dude," she responded. "I'm Ered."

"Ered Miller, the famous snowboarder?"

"The one and only."

"What's a famous person like you doing in a place like this?"

"Practicing for the next big competition. My coach and I scoped this place out last year—plenty of hills to shred. What are you doing here?"

"A favor for a friend. She needed an extra hand and I was free." He shrugged. "I got in last night."

"You must've heard the explosion."

"I got here right when it happened. I was only fifteen feet away."

"Whoa. Lucky thing you weren't closer."

"Yeah, I know. So, how much do you know about what's been going on?"

"I heard some stuff happened, but this place is too perfect for me to leave. You might ask that weird guy in room 2. He's a scientist, I think. He might know something."

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem." She grabbed her board. "If you need me, I'll be on the slopes."

Max watched her go and headed upstairs. At room 2, he rapped on the door.

"Coming!" a voice called. The door opened to reveal a man with what could only be described as a Jew-fro. He was thin and scraggly, like he spent all his time at a computer.

"Uh, hey," Max chuckled nervously. "I'm Max. You are?"

"Neil," the thin man replied, and Max knew this was the nerdy stepbrother Nikki had mentioned at breakfast.

"I'm the new housekeeper… person… and I'm just going around and meeting the guests today."

"Oh! Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Say, did you hear that explosion last night?"

"Did I ever! I was almost asleep when it happened. I haven't investigated because it's too cold."

"It's _Canada_. In _winter_."

"True. Nikki checked it out this morning, though—said there's nothing but debris."

"And a melted clock face. I went out there, too."

"Are you a friend of the owner?"

"Yep. I've known her since grade school."

"Good to know. Hey, you mind helping me with something?"

"Sure, what?"

"Well, Nikki—she's my stepsister, by the way—has a shit-ton of energy. She's always on the go and I was hoping you could shovel off the pond so she could work some of that energy out."

"Yeah, I met her this morning. She said you were a nerd."

"I am."

"Still, it's part of my job to shovel the pond, so I'll help you out."

"Great!"

Neil closed the door and Max headed to room 3. Nobody was there, so he headed back downstairs and ran into a man with brown hair.

"Oh! Pardon me!" the man apologized.

"Not a problem, dude. Hey, are you a guest here?"

"Yes! My name is _Preston Goodplay_!" He posed dramatically.

 _God, what a fucking nut-job…_

"I'm Max. Rosemary just hired me as temporary help."

"Ooh! Then, Maximillian, surely you must know of the events that have transpired in the past few months!"

"Yeah, she gave me the rundown. And _don't_ call me Maximillian."

"Fine, fine. The worst was last night. I'm telling you, if it weren't for the fact that I needed time away, I'd pack up and go home _this minute_!"

"Uh… okay."

"And that's not even the _whole_ of it! There's also… _the wolf_."

"The wolf? This is the first I've heard of one being here."

"It howled before the explosion last night. That beast is the cause of all the problems, mark my words!"

"A _wolf_ caused people to get _food poisoning_ , locked a guy in the sauna, and stole a snowmobile?"

"Yes!"

"Do you realize how _insane_ that sounds?"

"Not _that_ insane! The old handyman said he was going after it!"

"Huh. Isn't hunting wolves illegal?"

"Maybe in America, but around here, it's open season all year round."

"Well, nice talking to you."

Max took mental note of Preston's odd behavior. He decided to take care of that favor for Neil and headed out to the skating pond. Shoveling it turned out to be damn-near impossible, due to the thick snow and the thinness of the ice in some spots, but he got it done. Once that was done, he headed back to his room and hit Rosemary's name on his contacts.

 _"Hey, Max! Any luck?"_

"Not yet. I found a melted clock by the bunkhouse, but I've seen the same clock in every damn room. It could've just been in there."

 _"Fuck."_

"By the way, one of the guests said something weird—that a _wolf_ was responsible for the accidents. Apparently, it was the same one I heard howling right before the bunkhouse blew up."

 _"Jesus Christ. That damn theory again."_

"I told him he was crazy and he said Quartermaster was going after it."

 _"I don't want that wolf killed, Max. Try and find a wildlife organization to come relocate it."_

"Yes, _Mom_."

 _"Don't you take that tone with me, young man."_ He could tell she was smiling on the other end of the line.

"There's not much else I can do…"

 _"Try exploring the area to see if you can find anything. There's a lot of woods around here that are_ perfect _for hiding in, but the ridges are dangerous. We're in an avalanche zone, so if you see anything, make sure to call it in."_

"Okay. Thanks, Rosemary."

 _"You're welcome."_

"Hey, real quick—why does Quartermaster call you 'RM'?"

 _"Oh. He says it's because 'RM' is quicker and easier to say than Rosemary. It's the same reason I call him 'QM'."_

"Well, I'll see you when you get back to the lodge."

 _"_ Adios _!"_

 _Click._

It was going to be a _long_ investigation…

* * *

 **And the second chapter closes.**

 **Next time, Max will head out into the wilderness and track a beast…**

 **So long and thanks for all the fish!**


End file.
